


It Must Be Obvious

by Mireille



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Zine: Diverse Doings 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-05-31
Updated: 1998-05-31
Packaged: 2019-03-22 20:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13771689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: Everyone knows that Vecchio and the Mountie are together. Except, well, Vecchio and the Mountie.





	It Must Be Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> Originally appeared in Diverse Doings 2. 1999 FanQ Award winner.

As Ray Vecchio opened the door to Lieutenant Welsh's office, he silently rehearsed his speech _: I didn't do it, I don't know anything about it, and besides, it wasn't my fault._  He only wished he knew what he was denying. Anything Welsh wanted to bawl him out for, from leaving paper jammed in the copier to killing Huey and dumping his body in Lake Michigan, he supposed, since he didn't remember doing anything lately. "Elaine said you wanted to see me, sir?"

"Have a seat, Vecchio."

Ray settled nervously on the edge of a chair, plucking at a bit of lint on the knee of his charcoal-grey slacks. When Welsh asked him to sit down, it usually meant they were about to have one of Those Talks--the kind that began with questions like "Do you happen to know why Internal Affairs has requested your personnel file again, Detective?"

Welsh cleared his throat a time or two, looking nearly as uncomfortable as Ray felt. "It's about the Mountie," he began.

Panic surged through Ray for a minute.  _Benny? What's wrong with--_  But Elaine had given him the summons as soon as he'd walked in the door, and he'd only just dropped Benny off at the consulate. Even if something awful had happened the instant Ray had pulled away, there was no way Welsh could have found out so quickly. Even Mounties couldn't send messages via telepathy; they'd have to get to a phone--and notifying Ray wouldn't be a high priority.

He made himself relax a bit. "He's not here, sir."

"That's a surprise. I apologized to him yesterday for not having found him a desk, before I remembered that he had a perfectly good one... across town."

Ray smiled weakly. So that was where this was going--a warning that Fraser was getting in the way of Official Police Business, or something. Okay, fine, he could handle that. He'd just rattle off the list of cases they'd never have closed without Benny's help, then point out that budget cuts had meant that they had never gotten the two additional detectives they'd been promised since '89 and therefore couldn't afford to turn away free detective work. Then he'd offer to try to limit the number of cases involving tainted horsemeat or pizza deliveries to a minimum, and everything would blow over. it always had before, anyway.

"I know you two have been trying to be discreet," Welsh continued, "but 'subtlety' isn't exactly your middle name, Vecchio. Consider this your unofficial gentle reminder to keep it out of the squad room."

"Huh? If this is about the wolf, sir, Huey ought to know better than to leave doughnuts sitting out on his desk. And we did pay him back for them. Well, I did. He wouldn't take the blue money."

"No, this isn't about the wolf. We've all gotten used to having to hire Wells Fargo to protect our lunches. it's about you and Constable Fraser."

"I swear we're not responsible for running that 'divorced white male seeks same for bowling, bondage, possible long-term relationship' ad with Gardino's phone number." He shrugged. "Well, Fraser isn't, anyway. And Elaine and Huey chipped in. The bowling was Elaine's idea. She thought it would add a nice, wholesome touch."

Welsh buried his face in his hands momentarily, mumbling something that sounded like, "I'm running a kindergarten." Then, straightening up, he said, "I'm going to forget I heard anything about this one. You're on your own, and frankly, I hope Gardino strangles all three of you. But since you seem determined to make me spell it out, I'm talking about you and Fraser. Your... relationship."

Ray stared at him for a minute. Then the other shoe dropped. "You've got to be kidding," he blustered, while alarm klaxons shrieked in the back of his mind.  _Oh God, he knows. He knows, which means Benny's sure to have worked it out.... Excuse me, sir, but I think I need to go shoot                       myself in the head now._ He'd have bet everything--he  _had_ bet everything, everything that mattered--on his success at hiding how he felt. And now Welsh had figured it out. Even more-- thought Ray and Benny were actually....

"You're telling me that you and the Mountie aren't...." Welsh's voice trailed off, either out of diplomacy or disgust; Ray couldn't be certain.

Out of frustration, he decided to force the issue. "Married? Dating? In love? Fucking like rabbits?" he suggested, adding, "Sir," at Welsh's scowl. Diplomacy, he decided. Welsh looked irritated by his less than tactful phrasing, but not sickened at the thought. "None of the above. I don't know who's been telling you--"

"No one told me," Welsh interrupted. "You're not the only detective in the room. I've noticed--"

"I don't care what you've noticed, Lieutenant. Benny and I are--well, to coin a phrase, we're  just good friends."

He still looked skeptical. "I don't really care what you do off duty as long as it doesn't get in the way of your job--but you're probably doing the best thing for your career by denying it. I hate having to say that, Vecchio; you're a good cop... but you know how it is."

"Yeah, I know how it is," he said, although he was beginning to think that no one  _else_  did. It didn't look like Welsh was going to believe him. It wasn't that surprising; he wouldn't have believed himself, either, especially not if what Welsh had noticed had been Ray's behavior around Fraser. After all, just because the feelings were all one-sided didn't make them any less real.

Or any less obvious, for that matter.

He left Welsh's office in a much worse mood than he'd been in fifteen minutes before. Huey and Gardino had arrived while he was talking to the lieutenant; Ray wasn't used to being the first one at work, but Fraser had needed to get to work early, so he'd figured he might as well come on in. The thought of not giving him a ride, though Fraser himself had suggested it, had been immediately discarded. He wasn't going to give up his ten minutes alone with Benny for anything short of a national disaster, even if he did mostly spend it griping about the traffic.

Ray headed over to the coffeepot; he could deal with this better if he were more fully awake. That was the theory, anyway.

Elaine was stirring Sweet 'n' Low into her own coffee when he reached for a Styrofoam cup. "So, where's Fraser this morning?" she asked.

"At the Consulate. You know, where he works? That's this thing that most people do instead of asking stupid questions."

Elaine rolled her eyes at him, but otherwise ignored the insult. "Is he coming by later?"

He was getting sick and tired of every woman he knew throwing herself at Fraser. One of these days, one of them was bound to get lucky--he winced; it was too early in the morning for him to be able to contemplate anyone "getting lucky" with Benny--and then where would Ray be? "I don't know, Elaine. In case you hadn't noticed, Fraser does have a life." Okay, so he was stretching the truth a little to prove his point. A minor lie wasn't going to make things much worse for him on Judgment Day. "We're not joined at the hip."

He hadn't realized that anyone had come up behind them until Gardino spoke. "That's not what I heard," he said archly.

Ray bit back his irritation, refusing to give his colleagues any more fuel for the fire. "So, Louie, who was that I saw you with at the Bowl-A-Rama?" He turned around and treated Gardino to his nastiest grin.

"I should've known it was you, you little weasel. I'm gonna have to get my phone number changed because of you, dammit! Four o'clock in the morning, I still had guys offering to tie me up."

"Too bad they untied you," said Elaine.

Ray only shrugged. "We were just trying to help. But suit yourself. We'll buy you a gift certificate for 1-900-FRAT-BOYS for Christmas."

Gardino snarled something incoherent and went back to his desk. Ray poured himself a cup of coffee before noticing that Elaine was still standing next to him, her own coffee sitting untouched on the corner of the nearest desk.

"You want something, Elaine?"

Elaine just looked at him for a moment, her mouth opening and closing occasionally as though

she meant to say something, but kept changing her mind.

"Spit it out, Elaine. I don't have all day."

She swallowed visibly. "So. You. Fraser. What's the deal?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about whether or not I should give up and let my mother fix me up with her neighbor's nephew."

"And you want the Mountie's advice? Trust me on this one; what he knows about relationships could fill a matchbox and leave room for all the matches." After all, Fraser had been the one asking all the dumb questions about signs, back when Ray had been chasing after Suzanne Chapin.  _How do you know_ , indeed. Obviously a man who had never been in love.

"Ah." Elaine gave him a strange look, then went back to her own desk.

Ray frowned at her retreating back. Either the entire precinct had taken leave of its senses at the same time, or he'd been entirely too obvious. Probably the latter.

There was absolutely no way that, if everyone else had figured out that Ray was attracted to Fraser, that Fraser hadn't noticed. Fraser was a cop, for crying out loud. He had to know.

As though his life hadn't been rotten enough up to this point. No, he had to go and fall for the stupid Mountie. He had to fall hard enough that he could feel himself start to grin whenever Fraser walked into the room, that he'd risk life, limb, and Armani suits for one of Fraser's hare-brained ideas.

Hard enough that, apparently, he was giving off sap waves that were visible to the naked eye. A man who could track a criminal by following a trail of chewed gum was definitely not going to miss that. So Benny had to be intentionally ignoring it in the name of friendship. Which was fine; Ray could live with that. But not if everyone else had to make a big deal out of things, because that was going to force the issue. And if Benny hadn't said anything about it, there couldn't be anything good to say.

Ray spent most of the day avoiding conversation: examining a crime scene, searching for case folders in the file room instead of pestering Elaine for them, catching up on paperwork. If anyone noticed, they didn't comment, not that he gave them much of a chance. At lunchtime, instead of calling over to the consulate to see if Fraser was free, he went to a Burger King and ate alone, bringing the new Tom Clancy paperback along for company.

It made a poor substitute for Fraser, but at least he didn't have to worry about it finding out how he felt about it. He figured that the fact that he tossed it into the trash along with his sandwich wrapper was clue enough.

The afternoon dragged on relentlessly toward five o'clock. There was nothing particularly pressing on his desk at the moment; he'd be able to go home at a decent hour. If he followed his usual routine, he'd pick Benny up at the consulate and they'd make plans for the evening. Only he wasn't sure, today, if he really wanted to face Benny. He still wasn't sure what he'd given away--how much he'd given away--but he knew that today of all days, it would be difficult to keep up the act. Especially since what he really wanted was to tell Benny what had gone on, if only to share an "isn't that ridiculous?" laugh.

Because it was ridiculous. It was ludicrous. It was utterly impossible, just as he'd tried to suggest to Lieutenant Welsh.

The only lie had been in implying that he preferred it that way.

He'd just about decided that he wouldn't go by the consulate after all--he could pretend to have gotten bogged down in a case--when he caught a glimpse of something red out of the corner of his eye.

"Hi, Fraser," Elaine said.

"Good afternoon, Elaine." She said something else that Ray couldn't catch. He caught her tone, though: still flirtatious, just in case she'd gotten something wrong.  _Not Elaine, please,_  he begged silently. No one he had to deal with day in, day out. Someone he could hate easily, from a safe distance; he could almost stand that. But not Elaine, and not his sister; it'd kill him to have to see them together every day.

"l was just passing by," Fraser said. Ray was acutely aware of how close Fraser was standing to his desk. Close enough that Ray could just reach out his hand and--

Fraser was talking to him, he realized belatedly. "...I was sent on an errand shortly before the end of my shift, with the understanding that I could consider myself off duty afterward. And I found myself in the neighborhood--"

"--and you wanted a ride home. We wouldn't even be friends if you owned a car, would we?" He'd meant the sarcasm to make it very clear to whoever was watching--and from the very intent way that Elaine began flipping through a file whenever he looked her way, he was sure at least one person was--that their speculation was completely unfounded. He was surprised at how much genuine bitterness came out in the statement and suddenly feared that there was more truth in it than he wanted to think about.

Fraser sounded genuinely hurt. "I wouldn't object to a ride home, but if it's inconvenient for you, I can walk. I just came by to ask you if you had plans for dinner."

Ray was grateful that Fraser had his back to Elaine and Huey, who were elbowing one another and trying not to snicker too loudly. "Yeah, Ma's expecting me home."

"Another time, then."

But when he turned to go, Ray couldn't help adding, "Of course, she always makes enough to  feed an army. You might as well come home with me."

"No, thank you. I couldn't impose--"

"Who's imposing? So we've got to pull an extra chair up to the table--so what? And you know Ma will be glad to see you. She worries that you're not getting fed"

Ray almost thought he could read Gardino's lips, but he hoped he was wrong. If Louie was really mouthing "Aw, how sweet," across the room to his partner, he was one dead duck. "So anyway, you coming?" He pushed his chair back from the desk, stood, and stretched.

"I'd be honored."

From anyone else, that would have sounded sarcastic, Ray thought. But from Benny... hell, he probably really meant it. Some honor--dinner at the Vecchio family zoo. Or war zone, or soap opera--depending on what today's excitement was. Last night had been relatively peaceful. He'd only had to deal with his nephew telling them the same moronic knock-knock joke he'd told them every night for a week, the one whose punch line--"Orange you glad I stopped saying banana?"- sent Mikey into fits of giggles and left his family wondering if Super-Gluing a five-year-old's mouth closed counted as child abuse.

Ray shrugged his way into his coat. "Let's get going, then."

As they passed Elaine, she murmured, loudly enough for them both to hear, "Have fun, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Ray aimed a kick at her shin, but she dodged it neatly and winked at him.

Even out in the hall, the voices from inside the squad room drifted out to them.

"That's disgusting," Huey said.

"Oh, I don't know," Elaine replied. "I think they're kind of cute together."

Gardino sighed. "And women wonder why we say we don't understand them. You're a sick puppy, Elaine."

Ray hurried Fraser down the corridor before he could put two and two together.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been fast enough. Once they were in the Riviera, Fraser put a hand on his arm to stop him from putting the key in the ignition. "What did Elaine mean by 'don't do anything I wouldn't do'?"

"You know, Benny, we've really got to find you a course in American."

"I am familiar with the expression, Ray."

"Then you know what she meant."

Fraser thought for a minute. "What I don't see is how it could be applied to this context, however. Unless, perhaps, she was generalizing it to include an entire range of behaviors that she wouldn't participate in, ranging from--" He broke off. "But then I don't see the point."

"She was joking, all right?" Ray exploded "She and I've been kidding around all day, that's all. it didn't mean anything." He jerked his arm away from Fraser and started the car.

"Ray, is there something bothering you?"

"No, of course not." At Fraser's skeptical look, he backpedaled. "Some stuff at work has been bugging me. It's not important, though. Just little things."

Fraser was silent until they had merged into the rush-hour traffic. "What? Perhaps I could be of some help."

He groaned. "No, Benny, it's nothing like that. Nothing you can help with."

"Are you sure?"

If it had been anyone else giving him that intense look, anyone else resting his hand lightly on Ray's forearm, anyone else asking that question in that low, slightly husky tone,  Ray would have thought he was being flirted with. He almost burst out laughing at the thought, though-Fraser, flirting with him? With anyone? But especially with him, because he'd given Fraser more than enough openings over the past few months that, if he'd been interested, Ray would have known by now. He'd never even indicated that he had noticed.

"Uh, yeah, I'm sure," he stammered around the knot in his throat. And there they were, stuck in downtown Chicago at five-thirty, moving at about a mile an hour while Ray tried to pretend that everything was cool.

Fraser was quiet, almost distracted, so Ray had plenty of time to script, rehearse, and reject various opening lines.

 _What are you doing for the rest of my life?_  Too lame.

 _Know what? Everyone at work thinks we're sleeping together. Want to prove them right?_ Too casual.

 _Have you ever been attracted to a guy?_  Too much like a sex-ed research project.

 _Benny, I fell in love with you the day we met, and I can't even begin to imagine life without you._  Too honest.

So they sat in the sort of uncomfortable silence that echoed with all the things that weren't ever going to be said.  After a few minutes, Ray started cursing under his breath at the traffic, an almost inaudible stream of invective that was perhaps a bit more than the Tuesday-afternoon gridlock called for, but didn't even begin to express his current feelings about life in general.

****

Fortunately, dinner wasn't all that bad.  Frannie was on her best behavior, and Tony and Maria were too busy riding herd on the kids to pay Ray the slightest bit of attention. Ma would have noticed something was wrong, but she wasn't home. She'd apologized profusely for leaving when they had a dinner guest, but she'd already promised to watch the Scarpettis' kids so they could go visit Dominic's mother in the hospital without having to drag three pre-schoolers along.

Which was how, after dinner, Ray found himself sitting on one end of the couch, with Fraser sitting between him and Francesca--a bit closer to Ray than Frannie, to be sure, but only because he could be reasonably certain Ray wouldn't grope him. Ray only wished he could be so certain.

They were the only three in the living room; Tony had taken Mikey out to play catch, and Maria had taken one look at them and said, "I'm not going to stick around to watch you make an idiot of yourself," before taking the younger kids up to bed. Ray still wasn't sure which of her siblings she was talking to.

They'd flipped channels for a while before settling on a cable channel showing old reruns.

Actually, Francesca had settled on it, vetoing both Ray's suggestion of a movie and, surprisingly, the hockey game that had caught Fraser's attention.

Well, maybe not surprisingly. She'd been rather short-tempered with both of them all evening, and all of Fraser's attempts to find out the cause of the problem had been rebuffed. Ray, after thirty years' experience, didn't even try to work out the reason behind Frannie's moods. She'd get over it eventually, and the best thing to do until then was ignore her, as much as she'd let you.

So while Frannie watched--or pretended to watch--The Partridge Family, Ray tried to keep Fraser's attention away from her, just to keep him from provoking her any further.

He gestured toward the screen. "And just think, this is what the rest of us were occupying our minds with when you were learning Inuit stories."

"Actually, Ray, the stories I learned from the Inuit were very educational."

He tried to leer, but it felt more like a grimace. "So was Laurie Partridge." Ray noticed that Francesca was giving them both evil looks--probably because he was monopolizing Fraser's attention--and leaned closer. "And ask Frannie about Greg Brady. but don't tell her it was my idea," he murmured.

"Someone from her past?"

"Something like that." Sheesh, sometimes he forgot Fraser had been raised by wolves. Or librarians, which was probably worse, at least if you were trying to get him to pick up on Brady Bunch references. It made conversation difficult, to say the least, particularly when he was trying to avoid most topics of any significance. No wonder he didn't know what he was doing most of the time.

He was still leaning in very close to Fraser, even though neither of them had said anything for a few minutes. Here, where Ray knew that even if he and Benny had been lovers for months, he wouldn't have dared to touch him--not in his mother's living room--it was safe to indulge himself in idle daydreaming. And what pathetic daydreaming it was, too, he thought in despair; not fantasies of wild sex--not that he was a stranger to those--but just thinking about how much he wanted to put his arm around Benny, to be able to rest his head on Benny's shoulder.... Oh, God, did he have it bad, or what?

For a second, he thought the voice he heard was part of the TV show: "Fine, I can see that  _my_  presence isn't necessary!"

Then he realized whose voice it was. He looked up to see Francesca standing in front of them, her arms folded across her chest and that look on her face that, twenty years ago, had always meant that someone was going to get kicked in the shins. He had a nasty feeling that she'd be aiming a bit higher these days. "Huh? Frannie, what--"

Just before she stalked out of the room, she threw the remote control at him. It bounced harmlessly off his chest and landed on the floor.  Ray sat there looking at it stupidly for a few seconds, then gave Fraser a weak smile. "Guess I'd better go find out what's wrong with her. You want to watch the hockey game? I hope this won't take too long, and then maybe we can go down to the gym, shoot a few hoops."

Fraser bent down to retrieve the remote. "All right. It  _has_ been a while since we played."

"Yeah, and I've been practicing my jump shot. I'm gonna kick your butt this time." He got up and headed for the kitchen, but paused when he reached the doorway. "And Benny? You'd better turn the sound up.  _Way_  up."

In the kitchen, Francesca was unloading the dishwasher, banging the plates and glasses around with such vehemence that he was surprised they hadn't all broken. He'd better hope they didn't; broken glass was entirely too useful as a weapon. "All right, Frannie, what's the problem?"

"Problem? Who said there's a problem?"

"You voluntarily left a room that Fraser was in, and you're going to try convincing me that there isn't a problem? Give me credit for having an IQ larger than my shoe size."

"Just go to hell, Ray."

Yes, that confirmed it; she was definitely mad at him. As though there had really been any doubt. "What did I do?"

She finally turned to face him, and he realized that she had been crying. Really crying, too, not the fake tears he'd seen her summon up to try to get her way; her mascara had run and her eyes were puffy and red. "You must have gotten a good laugh out of this one."

"Out of what? Am I missing something?"

"Apparently not," she snapped. "But it looks like I have." She turned back to the dishwasher. "God, how could I have been so  _stupid_?"

Ray was beginning to have an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu. "Do you think it would be possible for you to tell me, in simple English sentences, what you're talking about?" he asked, feeling certain that he already knew.

"Oh, come on. Why didn't you just tell me? You couldn't have said something like, 'By the way, Frannie, quit flirting with my boyfriend'?"

"For God's sake, Francesca, keep your voice down." He could hear the hockey game that was on in the living room, but there was still the possibility that Fraser might overhear them.

"Why? No one's home to hear except Maria, and she's been telling me the same thing for weeks."

His sisters were discussing his nonexistent relationship with Fraser in their spare time. He had obviously held all six winning numbers in this week's Bad-Luck Lotto. "Do you not have a life? No, don't answer that, just shut up before Fraser hears you."

She shrugged. "So what? It's not like he doesn't know, after all."

They could just file his whole life under "irony," couldn't they? Apparently, the only person in the greater Chicago area who didn't know he was in love with Fraser was Fraser himself. if this had been a movie, the critics would be trashing it as too unbelievable.

He couldn't even think of anything to say. Nothing ever calmed Frannie down until she was ready, and denying her accusations wouldn't do any good. He fled the kitchen before she could say anything else--and he prayed that she wouldn't think up a parting shot to yell at him on his way out.

"Get your hat," he ordered as he entered the living room. "We're leaving now."

"is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah. Frannie's just gone insane, that's all. Get your hat."

"Insane? Surely you're exaggerating--"

"You think so? We'll see who's exaggerating when the men in white coats come to haul her off. Now get your damned hat, will you?" It seemed to be taking Fraser an unbelievably long time to stand up. "I'll wait in the car."

He supposed it really didn't take Fraser that long to join him; he hadn't even had a chance to start the engine--but every second that Fraser was out of his sight was another second that Frannie might have said something to him.

From the way Fraser was smiling as he got in the car, it was a pretty good bet that she hadn't, though. God must have been too busy to mess with his life any more for the next few minutes.

"Look," Ray said as they were backing out of the driveway, "I don't really feel like playing ball right this minute. You want to go for coffee?"

If the sudden change of plans surprised Fraser, he gave nothing away. "That'd be fine, Ray."

"Okay." He turned left at the end of the street, figuring they could go to the coffee shop near

Fraser's apartment. It usually wasn't that crowded in the evenings; most people in Fraser's neighborhood weren't suicidal enough to venture outside after dark.

They were both quiet during the drive. After being interrogated all day, Ray was grateful. It gave him a few minutes to come up with Plan B.

He'd have to start dating again. It might not stop the speculation, but it would slow it down. It'd help him come up with plausible denials, at least. He'd pretty much stopped once he'd met Fraser; he hadn't had time, for one thing, since he, never knew when Fraser was going to get him involved in staking out meat-packing plants or searching through dumpsters. And, in all honesty, he admitted to himself as they took their seats in the coffee shop and placed their order, he hadn't much wanted to. Why should he waste his evening--and that of a woman who deserved better--when he'd really rather be spending it with Benny? If things had worked out with Suzanne Chapin--but he'd known going in that they wouldn't. That was one of the reasons she'd been so appealing: she gave him an opportunity for the thrill of romance without seriously jeopardizing his relationship, such as it was, with Benny. He'd spent the whole time thinking that soon he'd have to arrest her, or knowing that she'd be going back to D.C.--things would end between them without the need for a messy breakup.

And Fraser would still be here. Just like he was now, giving Ray a very curious look. "Ray?"

He started guiltily. "Yeah? What?"

"Are you all right? You haven't said anything since we got here."

"I'm fine. I was just ... thinking." Their coffee had come, he noticed. He picked up his cup and gulped at it. The hot liquid stung on its way down, but it gave him something to think about other than Fraser.

"Ah." There was a pause, and Ray was just about to comment on how annoying that "ah" thing was, when Fraser spoke again. "May I ask you something?"

Here it came. It figured; if everyone else had chosen today to ask him about Benny, it was only logical that this would happen. And they were in public; good place for avoiding messy scenes. Not that Benny'd ever make one, but Ray might be tempted to if they were in private. "Yeah, sure, Benny. What do you want to know?"

"You've been distracted ... well, for the past week or so, but today, especially. Is it-is it about Special Agent Chapin?"

Ray clutched at the straw he'd just been offered. "Suzanne? Kind of, yeah."  _Kind of. As in, I've been thinking things like: no matter how what I said about being in love with her, I'd rather be sitting in this crummy coffee shop with you. My God, I am such a sap._  "Is that it?" Yeah, right. Like he'd be that lucky.

"No. I was wondering about ... well, signs."

"Signs?"

"You said that when you meet the right person, you know."

Ray absently tore a corner off of his napkin. He couldn't take his eyes off Fraser's face, just in case there might be some clue to what he was thinking. There wasn't. There very seldom was, at least not when Ray really needed the help. "Yes, I did."

"How do you know?"

He shrugged and tore another bit off his napkin. "Like I said, Benny, you just do."

"But how?"

"Signs." He was amassing quite a pile of quarter-inch-square bits of cheap paper napkin, he noticed.

"What kind of signs?"

Ray's stomach lurched, like it had the first (and only) time he'd been on a roller coaster, that weird, sick feeling you get from having your body suddenly find itself sixty feet away from where it thought it was supposed to be. "All kinds of stuff."

"Such as?"

"Little things. The way they look at you. The way they find ways to spend time with you, even when it doesn't really make sense to. The way they--"

"No. That's not it. That could be anyone who's interested in you."

"I thought that was what we were talking about." He picked up another paper napkin and started methodically shredding it like he had the first.

The waitress came by to check on them then, and they stopped talking. Fraser waited until she was gone before speaking again. "We were talking about knowing when someone's the one. The right one. Detective Huey's 'Number One."'

"Or at least, number as-high-as-you're-gonna-get?" Fraser nodded. "No easy way to tell. I mean, like I said, my father knew Ma was the one when he saw her eating that cheesecake with a knife and fork. And Louie--well, Louie says he never got a sign from Janice--that's his third wife--but the day after he met her, he came in telling us he'd met the woman who was going to be the last Mrs. Louis Gardino."

"How did he know?"

"They were in the mall, right? J.C. Penney's. And she was singing along with the Muzak, really quiet, but you could hear her. And she didn't care. He thought that was the greatest thing he'd ever heard." After a few seconds, honesty compelled him to add, "Two years later, he was bitching about how she always had to sing along with elevator music." He picked up his cup.

"So you're saying there's no way to know?"

"What I'm saying is that this woman forgot to give me more coffee," he grumbled. "No, Fraser, that's not what I'm saying. I guess--well, I've only gotten a sign like that twice in my life: this girl I dated in high school, and...." Let him think the other was Suzanne. It hadn't been, of course; Ray knew all that babbling about signs had been nothing but a verbal smokescreen to distract himself from the sheer implausibility of their having a relationship that didn't involve her hitting him with a car, not to mention the gnawing doubts at the back of his mind, the ones that had been whispering things like  _But she's not Benny, is she, Ray?_  But let Fraser think that; it would make things easier. "And I figure you can guess the other. And they had one thing in common--it's not what the other person does. It's what you do. Or what you feel. God, I'm not making any sense."

"No, go on."

It was impossible not to, when Fraser was paying him this much close attention. He took a deep breath and tried to make himself think of anything but Fraser. "Like I said, I got a sign twice. Didn't work out either time, but these things happen. And both times... there's just something you feel, every time you see each other. Something that tells you that this is what you've been looking for all your life, even though you didn't know you were looking for anything."

"And if you think you might be misinterpreting the sign?"

"It's a sign, Fraser, not some kind of code. It's either there or not there." It was getting late; Ray dug some money out of his pocket and dropped it on the table. "We'd better be going. They're going to want to close up soon." And in fact, their waitress was leaning sullenly against the counter, her jacket already tossed on a nearby stool. When she saw them standing up, she brightened a little, enough to give them an artificial smile before hurrying over to pocket her tip.

Since the coffee shop was only across the street from Fraser's building, they walked over rather than taking the car. Halfway across the street, Fraser asked the same damned question. "What if you're not sure it really is a sign?"

"Oh, for God's sake! We're in the middle of the road, Benny. Do you want to get run over?" He rushed across the street before the light changed.

"Well?" Fraser said when he joined Ray on the sidewalk.

"Well, nothing. I'm freezing to death Let's get inside." Inside was sounding like a good idea. He was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion where these questions were going--in much the same way that he had a sneaking suspicion that the sun was going to rise in the east tomorrow morning--and he didn't want to have that discussion in the street. He didn't want to have it at a, but going home wouldn't do any good; Fraser was stubborn when he wanted to be, and he'd keep bringing it up until Ray caved in.

He said nothing more until they were safely inside Fraser's apartment. He had never been so glad that the door didn't lock; it'd be easier to make a quick exit.

Finally, once Fraser had hung up his hat, Ray thought he might as well get this over with. "Let me get this straight," he said, leaning against the wall in what he hoped was a casual pose. "You want to make absolutely sure you're not misreading a sign?"

"Exactly." He shrugged, determined that if Fraser wanted to extract any confessions from him, he would have to come right out and ask. "Oh, I don't know, Benny. Kiss her. See what happens then." The "her" was a nice touch, he thought.

"Ah." He frowned for a minute; then his face cleared, and he smiled.  "Thank you kindly, Ray."

"Any time, Benny."  Then Ray realized that Fraser's hands were now planted on the wall, one on either side of him.  He made himself stand very still, waiting to see what Fraser would do--which appeared to be nothing.  "Benny, what are you--"

Stupid question, really; all he had to do was keep waiting.  A second later, he had no doubt in his mind what Benny was doing; he was leaning in, touching his lips to Ray's.... The kiss was hesitant and almost innocent, bringing back an image from almost twenty years ago:  walking Irene to the corner of her street--as close to her house as her father would let him come--after school, and kissing her goodbye before leaning against the streetlight to watch her walk home.  He found himself laughing, amazed that after all these years, he could still find something like that--something sweet and gentle and terrifyingly honest--charming.   _Guess it's a sign._

Fraser stopped kissing him and backed away a little.  "I'm sorry, Ray."

  
"What on earth for?"  He didn't sound sorry to Ray; he sounded annoyed.

"You obviously don't think I'm serious."

"Because I was laughing, you mean? I was just thinking about--never mind what I was thinking, it doesn't matter. Just come over here, and I'll show you serious."  He didn't wait for Fraser to comply; he stepped forward, pulling him close, and kissed him. Properly, this time, the surprising fervor of Fraser's response and the press of Fraser's body against his leaving Ray dizzy.  His arms were twined around Benny's neck; Benny's were wrapped tightly against his waist.  Ray would have been content to stand there forever.

Well, maybe not forever.  Especially not since Benny had abandoned his assault on Ray's mouth and was now working his way down Ray's neck.  "May I?" he asked, one finger tapping the knot of Ray's tie.

"Be my guest."  This might not be the worst day of his life, after all.

Benny untied the tie, pulled it free from Ray's collar--and then stopped.  He looked around for a moment, and Ray realized that he was trying to find a place to hang the tie.  "The floor." Never mind that it was an eighty-dollar tie; its fate was completely irrelevant at the moment.

"What?"

"Just drop it on the floor."

"You're sure?"

"Benny--" Ray took a deep breath, realizing that he wasn't just talking about the tie.  "Yes, I'm sure."

Benny looked at the tie for a few seconds longer, then let it fall.

Ray grinned. "I'm a bad influence on you."

"How?"

"Kissing men, dropping things on the floor--you'll be jaywalking next."

"I doubt that, Ray."

"Why not?"

"We're not out on the street."

"No, we're not," Ray agreed "And it's--" Benny had unbuttoned Ray's collar now and was kissing the hollow at the base of his throat-- "a good--" now Benny was sucking gently at the skin just where his pulse was beating-- "thing." Ray gasped as Benny turned his head to nip at the spot where Ray's neck joined his shoulder.

Benny stopped immediately. "Did I hurt you?"

"God, no."

"So you wouldn't mind if I did it again?"

 "Not in the least." But Fraser couldn't keep his attention on any one spot for long, nipping at Ray's earlobe, then kissing Ray gently on his eyelids and along the curve of one eyebrow.

Ray began to fumble with the fastenings of Fraser's uniform tunic, but it might as well have been a chastity belt; he couldn't get his fingers to work the buttons, even, let alone work out what bit needed to come off first. "It's no good, Benny," he said ruefully. "You're going to have to take this off yourself."

"What?" Fraser sounded a little distracted, his words murmured against Ray's temple.

"Your uniform. I can't get it off."

"Oh." Benny swiftly started undoing buttons. Ray took advantage of the situation to divest himself of his jacket and shirt. The rest could wait until Benny had his hands free and could do it for him, he decided.

Benny even took the time to fold his jacket and shirt and hang them over the back of a chair. Ray sighed They were going to have to work on the concept of getting carried away by passion. Maybe a hands-on lesson would be in order.

Ray leaned in for another kiss, taking advantage of their closeness to run his hands along the hard planes of Benny's chest and sides. He'd seen Benny without a shirt before, of course, but he'd never allowed himself time to properly appreciate it. He'd always assumed that blatantly ogling Benny would give him away. But now he had the opportunity to enjoy not just the sight of Benny, but the feel of smooth skin, taut muscles, the tiny buds of nipples that hardened as Ray scraped the flat of his thumbnail over them--and he intended to take advantage of it.

He began to slowly kiss his way down Benny's body. As he neared the top of Benny's trousers, Benny tried to pull him back upward, but Ray squirmed out of his grasp to kneel in front of him.

"Ray, we could--" Benny began.

"We can do a lot of things, Benny, but right now, I want to do this, okay?" He paused. "Unless you don't want me to."

"It isn't a question of not wanting you to, Ray, but I'm afraid that you won't enjoy it as much as you might some other--"

Ray interrupted him yet again. "Don't worry. I'm going to enjoy this just fine." There was no way Benny could know how much he had wanted to do this, none at all. Hands trembling a little, he quickly unfastened Benny's uniform trousers and pushed them, and the stiff white boxer shorts--  _somehow, Benny, I always knew you starched your underwear--_ down far enough to free Benny's cock.

Benny's cock was flushed a deep rose, in stark contrast to the creamy pale flesh of his stomach and thighs. Ray traced a vein with the tip of his finger. "Gorgeous," he murmured, lowering his head so that he could touch his lips along the path his finger had just traveled. He felt the muscles in Benny's thighs tighten as he shifted position to keep his balance.

Ray suddenly realized that Benny was standing extraordinarily still, hands at his side,  just as though he were standing guard duty outside the consulate. Was something wrong?

He glanced upward to see that Benny was looking straight ahead into the middle distance, his face held immobile.  _Exactly_ like he was standing guard duty, except that the ordinarily clear gaze was hazy with arousal. Ray chuckled to himself. It seemed he wasn't the only one who had been

harboring that fantasy. He relaxed a little and allowed his imagination to take control.

The concrete of the sidewalk would have been rough and cold, even through his slacks. And there would have been people passing by.... In Ray's imagination, of course, they walked directly past them without reacting, but the possibility of getting caught had always been part of the thrill of the daydream.

Ray swirled his tongue around the head of Benny's cock for a minute before suddenly taking it all into his mouth. It had been a while, but he remembered to relax his throat muscles before beginning a slow, steady suction.

He could tell that it was becoming a struggle for Benny to remain motionless. That had always been part of his fantasy, as well, to finally break through Benny's perfect-Mountie persona and get him to say something--to move--hell, to  _blink_  noticeably--while on guard duty. That was why he'd always made a point of talking to Benny--of leaning close in, invading the other man's personal space--when he was on duty. That was why he'd spent night after night imagining a scenario like the one he was playing in his mind right now.

And the facade was beginning to crack. Whether or not it would have if Benny had actually been on guard duty, they'd never know--neither of them was stupid enough to ever do this for real. But there was a slight curl to Benny's upper lip, and his breathing was coming more and more raggedly. A small victory, but not enough, even though the harsh sound of Benny's breathing was

like raw silk scraping against the edges of his nerves, and every twitch of Benny's body had Ray's cock throbbing in sympathetic frustration.

Ray pulled his head away, watching as Benny's hips thrust forward a little before he got himself back under control. "Aren't you supposed to be on duty?" he said "You're not supposed to be moving around like that."

Benny looked stunned for a moment, then froze again. Well, they'd just have to see about that. Ray returned his attention to Benny's erection, tracing painstakingly slow patterns along its length with his tongue. He felt rather than heard a whimper beginning in Benny's chest, and again pulled his head away. There were a few drops of fluid at the tip of Benny's cock, and he lapped at them.

Benny's hands clamped down on his shoulders, holding him at a distance. "Not yet," he said.

Victory. He'd never be able to see Benny standing on guard outside the consulate without

savoring this moment again in his mind. "When?" Dear God, that was a little too close to a whine for comfort.

Benny looked over at the bed. "If you want to."

If he wanted to? Oh, yeah, he was going to say, "No, actually, I think I want to go take a walk."

"Have you ever done this before?" he asked, trying to sound casual. Two could play at that game, and if Benny wasn't going to beg, neither was he.

Color rose in the pale cheeks. "Yes."

Ray blinked. "Yes? Really yes?"

"That's what I said, Ray."

Oh, God, now he'd hurt Benny's feelings.

"I know. I'm sorry, I was just a little... no, make that a lot surprised When did you--" _And who with? Arid how many times? No, wait, that's from that song Maria used to play over and over until Pop broke the record. But they're decent questions, and I wouldn't mind having them answered._

"A long time ago," he said, in a tone of voice that made Ray unwilling to ask any more questions, before sitting down to take off his boots and pull his trousers and shorts the rest of the way off.

"Me too," he said, offering confidence for confidence. "Well, I guess it's like falling off a bicycle--" Realizing what he'd just said, he started to laugh.

Fraser didn't even smile, and Ray wondered if he'd even noticed the mistake. "Why would you want to fall off a bicycle?" he asked seriously.

"Ah, Benny, lighten up, will you?" Then he caught the glints of humor in Fraser's eyes, the slight smile at the corners of his mouth "You're making fun of me. You, a Mountie. I am appalled,'" he proclaimed. "I ought to--"

"Ought to what?"

"Wait until I get you on that bed, and you'll find out."

Benny turned away then, going into the tiny kitchen. Ray followed him, puzzled. "Benny? The bed's not in here, you know."

"I know, Ray." He opened one of the kitchen cabinets and reached up to take something down from the top shelf.

Ray couldn't help smiling when he saw what it was. "I thought that was the Boy Scouts, not the Mounties."

"I'm sorry?"

Ray gestured at the package of condoms and tube of K-Y Benny was holding. "Be prepared,"' he quoted. "I thought that was the Boy Scouts."

"It isn't a bad motto, you must admit."

"I don't know, I kind of like yours. 'Get your man' has a certain ring to it, you know?"

"But the RCMP motto is actually 'Maintain the right,' Ray."

"Benny?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up, you're spoiling the moment." He took Benny's hand and nearly dragged him back out to the bed--not that he could have done it without Benny's cooperation--at least, not very easily.

Now it was his turn to try to stand still as Benny unzipped his slacks. He finally gave in and moved, toeing off his shoes so that he could get out of the slacks and shorts once Fraser had worked them down over his thighs.

When the slacks were in an untidy pile on the floor--like the rest of his clothes; the hell with the Armani--Benny handed him the tube of K-Y. Ray looked at it for a minute. "You never did tell

me why you have this."

"'Be prepared,'" Benny quoted.

"No, seriously. Who--I mean, you don't just keep this stuff on hand for no good reason. It's not like keeping an extra loaf of bread in the freezer."

Fraser turned serious for a minute. "If you're asking if I bought them with someone else in mind, Ray, the answer is no. But if this ever happened, I didn't want anything to go wrong."

And that matter-of-fact statement hit Ray like a freight train. "Ah, jeez, Benny, sometimes...."  He trailed off, unable to say any of the things he wanted to, and finally settled for, "Sometimes you say the weirdest things." He squeezed some of the gel into the palm of one hand, dropping the tube onto the bed and rubbing his palms together to warm the lubricant.

Benny was already lying on his stomach, and Ray knelt between his legs, using his fingers to get Benny ready for him. He was relieved to find that despite a little initial resistance, Benny relaxed quickly; he didn't think he was going to have enough self-control left to go slowly once he was finally inside Benny. "I think that's enough," he said after a few minutes, his voice shaky.

"What about you?" Benny replied, sounding as unsteady as Ray.

"Just a second." He moved off of Benny so that he could find the box of condoms. Benny rolled over, getting to the box first.

"Let me do that," he offered.

Ray bit his lip. He wasn't sure he would be able to wait much longer... but his cock wanted to feel Benny's hand on it almost as much as it wanted to be buried deeply inside Benny's flesh. Hesitantly, he nodded.

Benny tore open a condom packet and rolled it down over Ray's cock. Ray bit back a whimper. Even that touch was nearly too much for him to be able to bear; the only thing he was aware of was Benny's hand on him, putting on the condom, spreading cool jelly over the burning flesh of his cock. "Stop," he choked out suddenly.

Benny froze immediately. "Is something wrong?"

Ray held himself still, reciting the batting averages of the Cubs' 1975 starting lineup until the world swam back into focus. "Nothing's wrong," he said at last, "but if you touch me again, I'm going to come before we ever get started."

Benny nodded. "Then perhaps we ought to get started?" he suggested.

"In a minute." He wanted to get at least some measure of control over himself. He still had no illusions of how long he was going to last, but there was a certain amount of pride at stake, after all.

"All right." It was obvious that Benny, though he'd never say as much, was getting impatient; he had gone back to lying on the bed, waiting.

Ray knelt down again, bending over to rain kisses on the pale back and neck. "Ready?" he murmured into Benny's ear.

"Yes, Ray," was the reply.

As carefully as he could, Ray eased his way inside Benny, pausing frequently to give Benny a chance to catch his breath and relax. To give himself a chance to catch his breath as well, and to battle the urge to thrust as deeply as he could, to bury himself completely in the hot, tight channel.

Benny pushed back against him, encouraging him to continue, and Ray brought his hand around, insinuating it between Benny's body and the bed, to enclose Benny's cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. After only a very short time, Benny called out his name, and Ray felt a hot flood of semen spilling over his hand.

Ray thrust one last time into Benny before giving into his own need for release, calling out Benny's name as he came.

He collapsed on top of Benny, his face buried in the thick dark hair. "Why did we wait so long to do this?" he asked once he'd gotten his breath back.

"We didn't know," Benny reminded him. "We were waiting for a sign--"

Ray couldn't help but laugh, remembering the events of the day. "I don't think either of us is too observant," he said "Everyone else seems to have noticed the signs weeks ago."

Benny rolled them over so that they were lying face to face, arms and legs twined together to make room for both of them on the narrow bed "What do you mean?"

"You know how you kept asking me what was bothering me?" Benny nodded.

"Everyone who knows us has decided that we're lovers."

"Well, we are, Ray!"

Ray thumped him lightly on the shoulder. "Yes, but we weren't this morning, moron. Welsh called me into his office to warn me that we weren't always discreet enough--as though you could get any more discreet than never actually having had sex," he grumbled. "Elaine--well, you heard Elaine. And the Duck Boys. And what do you think Frannie was mad about? Face it, Benny, it was inevitable. We're just giving in to peer pressure." He shrugged--difficult to do, with his arms wrapped tightly around Benny, but he managed something. "But it's kind of a disappointment, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it ruins the shock value. I bet they wouldn't even blink if I kissed you right in the middle of the office."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Ray chuckled. "Want to find out tomorrow?"

"Now you're just being silly, Ray."

"Yes, I am," he agreed, happily. "But you know exactly how to make me stop."

Benny kissed him until they were both breathless. "Yes, I do."

****

it was after three o'clock in the morning when Ray finally got home. He'd have liked to have stayed all night, but he didn't have any clothes to wear to work. Besides, if he didn't come home at all, Francesca would go on the warpath for sure, since she'd seen him leave with Benny.

He was going to be a zombie at work tomorrow; he might just have to step aside and let Huey and Louie claim whatever case came in, no matter how potentially good for his career. But he was thirsty, and missing another twenty minutes of sleep wasn't really going to make that much difference, so he went into the kitchen rather than going straight up to bed.

He was so wiped out that he hadn't even noticed that the kitchen light was on until he reached for the switch.

"You're up late," Frannie said. "Where've you been?"

Well, this was going to get ugly. Maybe he was so tired it wouldn't hurt that much when she eviscerated him. "At Fraser's."

She shrugged. "Figures."

It seemed she wasn't going to say anything more, at least not at the moment. Ray decided not to complain about this sudden stroke of luck and got a glass down from the cabinet. He was pouring himself a glass of soda when Frannie said, "I'm sorry, Ray."

He nearly spilled Dr. Pepper all over the counter, but he made himself stay calm as he asked, "For what?" She was going to stab him thirty times with a butcher knife, he knew, that was for what.... But when he turned around, she was unarmed.

"For saying what I did this evening," she said. "I don't know where I got that stupid idea. I mean, any idiot can see that you and Fraser are just friends. For god's sake, you were married and everything." She rolled her eyes. "My own brother. You'd think I'd know if he was gay or not."

"You'd think so," he said, in what he hoped was a neutral tone of voice.

"Anyway, like I said, I'm really sorry. I was being a complete bitch." Agreeing with her was dangerous, he knew, so he said nothing.

"So, am I forgiven?" she asked after a minute.

"Of course you are, Frannie. Just don't let it happen again," he added, in his best irritated-big-brother voice.

As. soon as his glass was empty, he put it in the dishwasher. "I'm beat. Good night, Frannie."

"'Night." She frowned. "What I do want to know, though--" She paused.

He stifled a groan. "Go on."

"What were you doing until three a.m.? I mean, he doesn't even have a television. Now,  _I_  could probably think of something to do with Fraser in his apartment for six hours, but  _you_ \--"

He fled the kitchen while she was still talking, hoping to escape before his reaction gave him away.

Even when he was halfway up the stairs, he could hear Frannie calling after him, "Ray? What's so funny? Ray?"

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](https://mireille719.tumblr.com)


End file.
